


The double-trunked tree

by Cerberusia



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, M/M, Oxford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 06:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1595696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows that Professor Orochimaru and that young medical lecturer are together</p>
            </blockquote>





	The double-trunked tree

Everybody knows that Professor Orochimaru and that young medical lecturer are together.

Rumour has it that they met through the uni, actually: of course Orochimaru's a biochemist, not a medic, but somehow he ended up taking this particular medic for tutes. Possibly. Or something. Anyway, whether it's true or not, the illicit thrill of potential teacher-student romance has so far proved sufficient to keep that rumour popular enough that it's often told as fact - that's how I heard about it.

Of course, they're a popular topic of conversation. There's the gay thing, of course, and the age difference - I mean, Orochimaru's very well-preserved, but the boyfriend's only just finished his residency - but mainly they're just very _different_. You've got professor Orochimaru, right, who's very tall and very imposing, features I suppose you'd call striking rather than handsome, and he dresses in traditional Japanese - he is Japanese, right? - yeah, Japanese clothing, which is unusual even by Oxford standards; but then his partner is a bit on the short side, reasonably handsome but nothing to write home about, still dresses like a student, and he's apparently very nice, don't get me wrong, but he's so utterly forgettable that we all call him just 'the boyfriend' because no-one outside the people he lectures can remember his name. God knows I can't.

That's probably why they're so cute, I suppose: the contrast. There's Orochimaru with his long black hair, kimono and haughty expression, and then the nondescript medic with his - how was it described - 'thoughtful but kindly air' having a cup of tea together in, I dunno, The Grand Cafe - that's where Helen saw them this week. You remember her, right? Chinese, glasses? Yeah, that's the one. Anyway, she saw them after the boyfriend's lecture - argh, and she told me his name as well, and I've forgotten it again, shit - anyway, yeah, after the lecture in The Grand Cafe, having a cuppa together. And they're not mushy or anything - obviously I've never had a lecture by Orochimaru, but I hear he's really not the type - but the way Helen was telling it, they had their legs together under the table and kept smiling at each other. And she was like, 'And it was a nice smile! Not a leer!' - yeah, apparently Orochimaru's a bit, er, offputting.

So yeah, the grand love story of Orochimaru and what's-his-face. Never let it be said that your College Dad didn't initiate you into the mysteries of Oxford. Oxonian mysteries? You mean like the Eleusinian mysteries? _Yeah._

~*~*~

Kabuto finds it somewhat strange that the college would provide a room to someone who spends all their time at the life sciences building and their office there, but it does come in handy sometimes. There are some experiments that are just too sensitive to leave in a lab open to colleagues; here, all Orochimaru has to do is cultivate such an off-putting aura that the scouts won't be tempted to contravene his orders not to clean his room. Since Orochimaru doesn't have to exert any special effort to appear off-putting, so far it's worked marvellously.

Uchiha Sasuke - or Sasuke Uchiha, over here - strides out past him just as Kabuto enters. Paper trembles in his wake. Kabuto hangs up his scarf and coat on the hatstand in the corner and raises an eyebrow at Orochimaru, who hasn't moved his feet from the Persian footstool, nor his eyes from the much-scribbled-upon essay in his hand. Most tutors favour red as the colour to strike fear into the hearts of their students, but Orochimaru prefers poisonous green.

"By the end of term," says Orochimaru, which is not a response to the question which Kabuto was asking, but does nevertheless answer it. Kabuto nods briefly, and moves to the opposite student's chair by the fireplace - only to be pinned by Orochimaru's gaze, abruptly trained on him. He pauses, then corrects his course to Orochimaru's chair instead. He leans over to press a kiss to the dry, cool cheek, and feels the muscles underneath twitch into a small smile.

"And how was your day, dear?" he says, dry as bone. He knows without checking that Orochimaru's tea has gone cold, and turns aside to the tea tray to put on the kettle and empty out the cup.

"Fruitful," says Orochimaru, who does indeed look like the cat who's swallowed the canary - or perhaps the snake who's just swallowed a mouse. Kabuto hums noncommitally and takes down the tea from the cupboard: sencha for the afternoon. In Hilary's short, cold days he usually prefers hot chocolate himself, but any warm drink will do so he fetches down his cup too. A real traditional china teacup, that is; mugs are for the greater quantities of tea required when working and only able to spare one hand. Kabuto finds this a pointless affectation, but they say all partnerships require compromise, so afternoon tea is served 'properly' and he takes the burning of his fingertips as an exercise in not showing discomfort on his face.

At length, Orochimaru flings the essay over his shoulder onto his desk and takes up the steaming cup Kabuto has set on the tray. Idly, Kabuto admires Orochimaru's long, pale fingers against the jade green porcelain. They sip their tea in silence, both apparently watching the vivarium as Manda emerges from his cave to stretch himself out on a tree branch, although Orochimaru's gaze is unfocussed in a way that suggests he's miles away. Kabuto will have to replenish the snake's water before they leave.

When the cups and the pot are empty, Kabuto rouses to take them back over to the sink. But as he leans over to pick up Orochimaru's cup, Orochimaru picks it up himself to hand it to him. In the process, those long fingers trail over the inside of his wrist to the pressure point - and then Orochimaru's hand drops back to the armrest and his attention is again directed elsewhere.

Kabuto has not blushed involuntarily in years; he takes the cups over to the sink like he meant to without a fumble. He returns not to his chair, but to the Persian footstool: Orochimaru's socked feet rest in his lap. Orochimaru favours him with an amused glance, toes flexing: like his fingers, they are abnormally long.

Kabuto leans forward, pushing up the hem of Orochimaru's kimono just a few inches, and presses a kiss to the pale, unblemished skin of Orochimaru's shin. Most men of Orochimaru's age would have coarse hair and the start of mottling, but Orochimaru's skin is as pale and smooth and cool to the touch as Ming porcelain, threaded with pale blue veins and muscle. Orochimaru believes in the value of _mens sana in corpore sano_ ; no soft theoretician he.

Kabuto reverently smoothes the kimono back into place, and takes down his book from the mantelpiece without looking Orochimaru in the eye. A robin chirps outside the window; out of the corner of his eye, Kabuto sees light snow begin to fall in the quad. In the distance, Tom Tower chimes five to the hour, like the bells of Gion Temple echoing the impermanence of all things. Kabuto smiles a secret smile and bends his head over his book: the composer of _Tales of the Heike_ had never accounted for Orochimaru.

**Author's Note:**

> The famous opening lines of _Heike Monogatari_ in full, trans. O'Neill:  
>  _The knell of the bells at the Gion temple  
>  Echoes the impermanence of all things.   
> The colour of the flowers on its double-trunked tree   
> Reveals the truth that to flourish is to fall.   
> He who is proud is not so for long,   
> Like a passing dream on a night in spring.   
> He who is brave is finally destroyed,   
> To be no more than dust before the wind._
> 
> St. Alban's quad is in Merton College, and is rather lovely, especially in the snow. For some reason Merton seemed the right college to put up with Orochimaru's... _eccentricities_. Possibly because it has a replica of the Warren Cup in the Senior Common Room.


End file.
